


A Summer to Remember

by plein_de_vie



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Summer Camp, Background Relationships, Courfeyrac Ships It, Enjolras Is Bad At Feelings, Eventual Relationships, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, Lots of bad language, M/M, One-Sided Marius Pontmercy/Éponine Thénardier, Pining, Recreational Drug Use, Sexual Content, They're all messes, Underage Drinking, badass yoga teacher Cosette, courf loves ferre a lot, they all work at a summer camp, we love them for it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-30
Updated: 2020-06-07
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:00:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 9
Words: 13,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23401120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/plein_de_vie/pseuds/plein_de_vie
Summary: Staying up until 3 am, fresh air, smoking pot, meeting your best friends, swimming, getting wasted, falling in love...That's how summer camp usually goes, right?
Relationships: Bahorel/Feuilly (Les Misérables), Combeferre & Courfeyrac & Enjolras (Les Misérables), Combeferre/Courfeyrac (Les Misérables), Cosette Fauchelevent/Marius Pontmercy, Enjolras/Grantaire (Les Misérables), Grantaire & Éponine Thénardier
Comments: 11
Kudos: 37





	1. and float away

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt on AO3!!  
> If people like this, and hopefully you all do, more to come shortly!
> 
> Title of the chapters are from the song Good Old Days by JR JR, which reminds me of summer:) Go listen it's so good!!

His pencils danced quickly around the sketchbook, leaving their mark as they touched the page. He was drawing his surroundings: the soft currents of the blue river, the bridge he was seated on, the neighboring emerald forest, and the packed bags sitting at his feet. Currently, all his focus was centered on layering the color of the trees. He had to get this right...add a little more green, then shade with the blue, finally highlight with the white-- 

“Grantaire! Jesus christ, are you deaf!” shouted someone from directly behind him. A small smile formed on his lips, he could tell who it was the second he heard her voice. 

“My dearest Éponine! I thought you weren’t going to find me,” Grantaire said as he swiveled around and hopped down from the side of the bridge he had been sitting on, “Sorry, I was drawing and my mind was miles away.” She just snorted and he thought he heard the slight, “I figured”.  
After setting his supplies down, he gathered her up in a tight hug. They hadn’t seen each other in 3 weeks, which was much longer than they’d gone without seeing one another before. Éponine and her brother, Gavroche, who was currently running in circles around the car, had gone to stay with their grandparents for a while. Grantaire felt it had been the longest 3 weeks of his life, which may have been the reason he agreed to this hell.

“Grab your shit. I want to make it to camp in time for the counselor’s dinner!” She said, pulling away from the hug and bending down to grab one of his bags. 

“I cannot believe you tricked me into doing this. I don’t even like kids! I doubt I’ll like to teach them how to paint.” He stated while cramming his bags in the back of her packed trunk. 

“You like me!” Gavroche countered, as he jumped up to slam the trunk door shut. 

“Yeah I like you. You’re an outlier,” Grantaire said with a toothy smile as he ruffled his hair. “Now get in the car. Or else your sister’s going to kill us.” 

The three of them piled into Éponine’s old Toyota and started off down the road. Gavroche had his headphones in and was bumping his head along to whatever punk rock song he was listening to at the moment.  
“How is everything? I haven't seen you in forever!” 

He noticed the careful way Éponine had said “everything”, as she readjusted her hands on the steering wheel. She meant his father. His drunkard, son of a bitch dad, who didn’t give a shit about him. She probably also meant his terrible habit of self-destructing when he was alone. 

She’s right to worry about those things, he thought. 

“Dad’s been a dick, I’ve been drinking way too much, I let some shitty people fuck me and I started smoking again. Let’s not talk about the last three weeks.” He said with a tone meant to be lighthearted, but he knew came out bitter. He heard her take a deep breath in and whisper a quiet, “Oh, R”. 

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here. Mom and dad made me and Gav go. I really didn’t want to. Take my cheap parents, multiply them by 100 and there you have my shitty grandparents--” 

“Eppie, I know. Sorry, that was supposed to be funny. Let’s not talk about it, please?” When she said nothing, he reclined and rested his hands behind his head. “Hey, you’re back now. And we’re headed to a summer camp where I am a counselor. I never asked, how did you manage that?” 

“I may have stolen some of your prints and sent them in. Oh, and I totally lied about your character. According to Le Amis Summer Camp, you are an aspiring, straight A student with a heart of gold who’s only goal in life is to teach kids art!” She responded with a sly smile in his direction. 

“Jesus…none of that is true.” 

“I know, but they don’t! Listen, it’s not even hard. I can help you wrangle the kids if Marius can cover some of my lifeguarding duties. And all you have to do is help them paint flowers and shit. Only 3 times a week at that, for one hour. You can meet all the counselors, you’re going to LOVE Courf! He’s gay too, but he’s got a boyfriend. That’s Ferre, he’s really sweet. Let’s see…Joly and Feuilly are going to be there. Oh god, Bahorel! You’ll love him. He’s older, 21 I think, and he teaches kids how to waterski. Jehan, he’s helping this year. Chetta might be too. Um, Enjolras…he’ll be there too, of course. And you know, he’s quite attractive, R. Courf said you might be his type.” She paused with a sly smile. “It’s going to be good, and we’re going to have a damn good time.” 

“Enjolras…is he the one you were saying that’s really into politics and freedom and stuff?” He paused and didn’t say, I’m no one's type, because then Eppie would just lay into him for self-deprecating and shit and he didn’t want a lecture right now. “I guess I’ll see for myself. And ok, ok. You’ve convinced me. Let’s make this the most kick-ass summer ever! Oh, and what did you say about Mr. Marius? Are we still swooning over his muscles?” 

“Oh, shut the fuck up, R.” 

“Marius and Eppie sitting in a tree,” shouted Gavroche from the back who had taken off his headphones, “K-I-S-S-I-N-G!” He screamed along with Grantaire. 

“Shut the hell up, both of you!” She said in an exasperated, but amused tone. “R, put on Green Day, I’m going to have to go 90mph if we want to make it on time. Everyone hold on!” 

_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

“There he is! There’s our leader!” 

“Courf, stop. Roll up the window. He’s saying goodbye to his parents.”

“Was that you commanding me Mr. Combeferre? If so, I liked it. Aw, am I making you blush?”

“Dear god Courfeyrac, stop.”

“Kiss me and I might.” 

“For fucks sake, you two have been insufferable ever since you got together. I never should have let it happen. Unlock the trunk.” Enjolras said through the open window of the car. 

“Enjolras! There, it’s unlocked.” Combeferre exclaimed as he popped out of the driver’s side of the car to give him a hug. Courfeyrac followed and practically tackled all three of them to the ground. 

After piling their bags together in the trunk, Combeferre and Courfeyrac took the front two seats while Enjolras sat in the back. He was very content to continue working on schedules for the camp while listening to Courf exclaim over every horse he saw and Ferre promptly tell him what breed and where they originated. 

“God, I am so pumped for this year!” Courfeyrac said approximately 5 minutes after he stopped swooning over the horses they had seen, “I get to be the head leader in charge of the ropes course, my amazing boyfriend is teaching kids how to write,” he said as he whipped around to face Enjolras, “and E, you’re leading the whole damn thing!” 

“Technically, I’m in charge of a small group of counselors. I’m not leading the entire camp, Courf. Mr. Valjean is still doing that.” Enjolras replied, but nevertheless the feeling of pride swelled up inside of him. He had worked for 5 years, every summer at this camp. Sure, this was where he’d met Ferre and Courf for the first time, but he couldn’t shake the feeling of wanting to do more. So he worked his ass off, and finally got promoted. He was their group leader, the person in charge of a number of counselors. 

“Who’s in our group this year Enj?” Asked Courfeyrac, which ended his train of thought. 

“I’m not sure he can say…but if you can, I also want to know.” Combeferre said as he glanced at Enjolras through the rear-view mirror. 

“Uh, I can say. Ok let me read them. My group is you, Ferre, Marius, Cosette, Feuilly, Chetta, Éponine, and…Grantaire,” He already sensed Courf’s question and continued, “Bahorel doesn’t need a group leader anymore, he’s 21. Jehan and Joly are with the support staff, so they don’t need one either. Do either of you know about Grantaire? Ugh, I do not want another someone ruining our group.”

“He’s coming with Éponine. He’s the new counselor in charge of art.” Responded Combeferre. 

“Eppie showed me a picture and he’s hot as hell! Enj, I was thinking you two could…well maybe get to know each other!” Exclaimed Courfeyrac with a knowing smile. 

“God Courf, just because you two are together doesn’t mean I need a relationship too. I’m good just working hard and enjoying the sun and--”

“He wants to get laid, you can practically hear it in his voice, Ferre.” Combeferre only chuckled and glanced at Enjolras in the mirror again with an apologetic smile. 

“Just keep driving Ferre. I want to get there in time for the counselor’s dinner.” Enjolras sighed. It was true, he hadn’t been in a relationship for a long time. Maybe this summer he could find someone. Someone that shared his political views, and that was just as passionate about teaching kids as he was. Maybe this Grantaire wouldn’t be so bad after all.


	2. pourin' out some champagne

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Angry Enjolras, smug Grantaire, and adorable Courf. As things should be!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 2, woohoo! 
> 
> Excuse the (probably) many errors in grammar, it's late! 
> 
> Title is again in reference to the lovely song, Good Old Days by JR JR:)

No, no. Absolutely not. 

How dare Courfeyrac have even insinuated he would even be remotely interested in this, this-- cynic, Enjolras thought as he angrily stuffed his clothes in the old wooden drawers his cabin housed. Combeferre would soon catch up with him, that he knew. I mean, he had stormed out of the parking lot during introductions in an angry stupor. 

He had noticed him of course, how could one not? His unruly black curls, the brightest eyes, well tanned skin with a sprinkling of freckles around his nose that spread to his cheeks--

Yeah, that was all great, and then the guy opened his mouth. 

“Hi, I’m Grantaire. You can call me R. Vive la republique?” He had scoffed while yielding a toothy grin, eyeing Enjolras’ shirt up and down. 

“Hi, I’m Enjolras. Yeah. What about it?” Enjolras had responded, straightening up to meet his eyes. His eyes, with just the smallest flecks of gold--oh, what the hell was he thinking? 

“It’s just ridiculous, that’s all.” Grantaire had said absently with a shrug.

Oh, well he hadn’t expected that. 

“What’s ridiculous about it? It was a rallying cry. They were fighting for their freedom. To preserve the nation that had fallen to greed and corruption. That had forgotten the people. It needed to be made better, right again, for the good of French society.”

“You think they weren’t doing that completely out of selfishness? All of those who believed in that were rich as can be! Grew up with mommy and daddy’s money funding their so called “revolutionary beliefs”. They were idealists. Human nature cannot so easily be changed. It takes more than a fucking barricade and a couple rousing speeches to fix that.”

“What’s so wrong with being an idealist? At least they have the capability to believe in something.” Bit back Enjolras, who had raised his voice enough that Combeferre, Courfeyrac and Éponine had started to stare at the two of them 

“Live in the real world long enough, Apollo, and I think we’d both agree idealism is a farce.” 

Stunned, Enjolras had simply exclaimed, “I don’t know you! Yet you insult me?” 

He turned on his heel and started straight away towards Combeferre to grab his bag.

“The nerve of some people. Éponine, who is this person you brought? Does he even know how to paint? He doesn’t look it.” He spat as he turned to shoot an evil look towards Grantaire. With that, he had marched towards the cabins, fuming. 

He didn’t see Éponine promptly go and furiously punch Grantaire in the arm. 

He didn’t hear Courfeyrac exclaim to Combeferre, “I need to meet this guy!” 

And he definitely didn’t catch Grantaire’s eyes on him as he walked away, or register the unreadable smile that was just barely gracing his lips. 

_____________________________________________________________

“Fuck R, what was that?” Éponine had hissed at him as Enjolras disappeared out of view. 

“So he’s passionate, good to know.” He said disregarding her question. His mind solely focused on the godlike figure that had just stormed away from him. Golden waves of hair and pure blue eyes repeating in his head.

“He’s definitely passionate alright, and I think he just met his match! Hi, I’m Courfeyrac, call me Courf. I run the ropes course. This is my wonderful, amazing, beautiful boyfriend Combeferre. His nickname’s Ferre, for short, he writes! That guy you just upset, that’s out best friend. I knew you’d be fun! I had a feeling!” A cute, shorter, brown-haired boy with a large smile had said to him as he stuck out his hand to shake it. 

“Hi, it’s Grantaire. R for short.” He said back as he shook Courfeyrac and Combeferre’s hands. Combeferre smiled a pleasant smile at him, shook his hand, and then mumbled something about checking up on Enjolras as he left. 

“Let me introduce you to the others! They’re going to LOVE you, R!” Courf said as he dragged him towards the cars with people unpacking their bags. Éponine just sighed and shook her head as she headed back to unpack her own Toyota. 

“Ah! Here’s Marius, I think you two may know each other? He’s a lifeguard here,” Before Grantaire could even address the red-haired, freckled boy, Courfeyrac was pulling him away towards more people. “That’s Feuilly and Bahorel. Feuilly is the kayak instructor, and Bahorel does watersports. Well I mean, waterskiing and wakeboarding, that is,” He said with a wink. “Guys! This is Grantaire, or R, he’s great! He’s the new art counselor around here!”

“Nice to meet you R!” Shouted Feuilly and Bahorel at the same time who then glanced at each other before blushing and looking away. 

“Let’s see…there’s Chetta! Her name’s Musichetta, but she doesn’t like to be called that. She teaches taekwondo to the kiddos. Ah, there’s Joly with her! He’s the camp medic, in training, I mean.” 

Grantaire looked over to see the two. Chetta’s hat caught his attention, a bucket hat embroidered with marijuana leaves.

My kind of girl, he thought to himself. 

“You don’t know him, but Jehan arrives tomorrow. He turned 16 in May, so he’s old enough to help out in the office. He can’t quite be a counselor yet. Cosette comes tomorrow too, she teaches yoga!” said Courfeyrac with a deep breath out. “Anyway, that’s really everyone.” 

“What does Enjolras do?”

“Oh, he’s the group leader. He’s in charge of the counselors in his group. Which is practically everyone I just introduced you to, minus Bahorel and Joly.” 

“Including me?”

“Including you!”

“Well fuck. Really made a great first impression, didn’t I?”

Before Courfeyrac could speak, Éponine walked up behind them and butted in. “Yeah. Thanks for that, idiot. I vouched for you.” 

“Don’t worry, Enjolras is touchy. Honestly, he’ll probably enjoy someone that can finally match his debate vigour. Alright, I should go find Ferre. See you around R, bye Ep!” Courfeyrac said as he bounded towards the cabins.

“God, did you see him?”

“Who? Courf?” Éponine asked, genuinely curious as to who Grantaire was talking about. 

“No. Enjolras. He looks like a god.” 

Apollo, his mind repeated. 

“Ok Romeo, let’s go find your cabin. You're going to have to do a little better than insulting all he cares about to woo him, I believe.” Éponine said with a chuckle as she took his arm and led him back to the car. 

As if he had a chance, his treacherous mind told him. As if a mortal has a chance with Apollo.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's chapter 2, lovelies! Update, maybe tomorrow? I'm trying not to rush, but I'm enjoying writing this!


	3. untethered, into outer space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sure. Acquaintances.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was feeling nostalgic, so enjoy Courf's little cheesy, inspiring toast at the end!!

As expected Combeferre was not long behind. He heard him carefully enter the cabin that he, Courfeyrac, Marius and Ferre himself were sharing. 

“Well this doesn’t look too bad,” Ferre stated. “It’s better than having to room in the smaller cabins we would’ve had to share with the kids.” 

He couldn’t argue with that. It was their first year being promoted to heads of their specialties, meaning they no longer had to room with the campers. There were other counselors for that luxury. 

“Can’t argue with that.” Enjolras replied shortly. 

“I can’t let you start out our last year being upset, Enj. You know I can’t let you do that. When you’re upset, it’s kind of hard for anyone else to enjoy themselves.” 

“Well he started it!” He countered as he spun on his heel to see Combeferre. He was met with an unimpressed look. Combeferre’s raised eyebrow was enough to bring anyone to shame.  
“You didn’t start out on the right foot, go try to start afresh. Everyone else seems to have taken a liking to him. It’s going to be hard to avoid him,” Combeferre said as he stuck out a hand to rest on Enjolras’ shoulder. “You don’t have to do it for him. Do it for the friend group, or the camp.” 

It was frankly exhausting to be as upset as Enjolras always was with the state of the world. Maybe you needed to know the guy, this Grantaire, to get along with him. 

“Alright. As always Ferre, you seem to have knocked some sense into me.” 

“That’s my job. Come to the dining hall, I believe everyone else has already started.”

They walked almost entirely in silence to the dining area. Enjolras was fine with just listening to the warm wind whistling through the tall trees as the beginnings of dusk were upon them. That was a short lived happiness, he discovered. As they neared where the counselors ate, the definite sounds of cackling and jeering could be made out. 

“Oh christ.” He heard Combeferre whisper. 

When they entered the tent, both Ferre and himself were caught off guard. Bahorel was standing up and making whooping noises, as Feuilly lost it laughing beside him. Chetta and Joly were singing, what sounded like, an old irish drinking song with the worst accent anyone had ever heard with their arms around each other. Courf and Éponine were laughing and looking up at Grantaire who was…well. Grantaire was standing on the table all his friends were sitting at and was chugging, what looked to be, it couldn’t…beer?

“What the hell is going on here?” Enjolras all but yelled as the cheering stopped. He waited a beat. “Maybe you don’t know how it works around here, but as the leaders of the entire organization that runs this camp arrive tomorrow, I’m the one in charge tonight. And, there’s no alcohol allowed on the premises. That means no expectations, not even for newcomers who seemed to have wormed their way into our group.” He had said harshly, as he had been looking directly into Grantaire’s eyes, not without noticing the smug smirk that appeared. 

A pause. Short lived. 

“As much as I respect your authoritative presence, Monsieur Enjolras,” Grantaire had said with a mock bow. “I cannot think to why you would make alcohol the enemy. If idealism is what you believe in, sir, then the man must be what makes the man. I could not imagine any material, including alcohol that would change that,” He paused, tossed the nearly empty bottle to Enjolras and hopped off the counter. Walking towards him with slow strides. “However, what you’re looking at here happens to be root beer. Gavroche and I were having a bit of a contest, you see, which I happened to win. But I’m glad you think so highly of me.”

He stood with the bottle in his hands looking down at the label, before it was snatched away by Grantaire and tossed in the recycling bin. The rest of the table had looked at the two of them anxiously. That was when he caught Combeferre’s eye. He made out the word he was mouthing to him: please.

“Fuck,” He whispered under his breath. “Ok, I’m sorry. It was unfair of me to think you’d be drinking alcohol--”

“Oh no, don’t flatter yourself. I definitely would, I definitely will. I’ve heard we get breaks around here,” He shot a look towards Éponine, who seemed to mouth something to him, before he sighed and his smile faded. “Just not on the premises. I do have some morals, you know.” He said, quieter than before. 

Enjolras huffed. “That’s besides the point, I think we’ve gotten off on the wrong foot.” 

“Yeah. Ok let’s just--so…acquaintances,” Grantaire finally settled on, awkwardly, as he stuck out his hand. 

“Sure. Acquaintances.” 

The room was silent for a moment as the two just stared at each other. Enjolras couldn’t read the look on Grantaire’s face, but he noticed those damn flecks of gold--

“Great! We’ve fixed it. All better,” Courfeyrac said awkwardly. Then continued stronger, “R, Ferre, Enj, come sit down. This is our last night without the kids, and for a lot of us our last year before that dreaded thing known as college. Let’s have a toast!”

He broke his eye contact with Grantaire and quickly went to seat himself next to Combeferre and Courfeyrac, as Grantaire turned and sat next to Éponine as he situated Gavroche on his lap, who was practically falling asleep. 

“Alright,” continued Courf. “To us! To the Le Amis Summer Camp. To those old,” he said as he motioned towards Bahorel who let out a bark of laughter. “And to those new,” he pointed at Grantaire, as the rest of the table (sans Enjolras) grinned. “Here’s to the best summer of our lives!” He finished as he pulled Combeferre into a kiss, as the rest of the table let out varying degrees of “aw” and “ew”. 

Right, thought Enjolras. The best summer of their lives, as he chanced a final glance at Grantaire, who happened to be glancing right back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Chapter 3, done!! I promise we'll get to see the kids doing their assigned activities soon + the introduction of a lovely, badass yoga teacher who Marius falls head over heels for! Thanks for reading, folks! Love the support:)


	4. rewrite the code

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> R does real counselor stuff and has lovely interactions with a crush

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a teensy snippet of some smutty thoughts from R. if you don't like things like that, no pressure to read on!

Oh fuck. What the hell had he gotten himself into, Grantaire thought to himself. 

It was a Wednesday. The kids had arrived 2 days ago, but the first couple of days had been just for introductions to the staff and camp and such. There hadn’t been a need for speciality counselors much. Those days hadn’t been so bad, not at all. He had gotten to help some kids unpack, and had decided this may have not been his worst idea after all. Turns out, he had gotten closer to the rest of the counselors too. Chetta and him had a rigorous discussion that revolved around the best medium used to smoke pot. She claimed a bong, but he argued you just can’t go wrong with the teenage rush of using an apple. Courf had proven to be very good company, as he really would laugh at anything. Especially when it involved something stupid. Speaking of which, Bahorel turned out to be one of the most kick-ass guys Grantaire had ever met. I mean, what kind of person has skydived while drunk? Bahorel, that’s who. Marius had introduced him to the lake, although his mind had seemed somewhat preoccupied with a certain someone.  
Cosette was a new counselor just like him. But her dad ran the place, so she did have a slight leg up on him. She was the yoga instructor, and Grantaire would grant to Marius, very pretty. He had talked with her a bit, and discovered her demeanour matched her outside. There was only one issue, and that was Éponine.  
Éponine had been in love with Marius far longer than Grantaire could even remember. They had known each other since they were little, which led to Marius seeing her as more of a sister, rather than a person of romantic interest. This was something Éponine had figured out two summers ago, when Marius had bluntly exclaimed, “You’re like the little sister I never had!”  
It had thus been up to Grantaire to reassure her that a lot of couples started out that way, even though he knew he was lying through his teeth. But it had somehow seemed easier to tell his best friend a lie, as she cried into his chest, than tell her the truth. See, Enjolras! Even he wasn’t always the cold-hearted cynic he was painted out to be.  
Speaking of Apollo, his friendship with Enjolras hadn't gotten better, but it also hadn’t gotten worse! That was something to be proud of! Especially when the guy just glared at him every time he opened his mouth. There was something to be said for Enjolras’ glare. It was dark enough to bring a man to his knees. That was, of course, something Grantaire hadn’t shied away from thinking about. Grantaire on his knees, looking up at Enjolras. Being able to touch him, and feel his marble skin beneath his fingers. Him being able to see Apollo, with his face that was sculpted by the gods, finally smile if he pleased him right--

“Grantaire!” 

God in hell. This was not the time, or the place, to be fantacising about a guy who clearly fucking hated him and he didn’t have a shot, in a million years, with. 

“Yes, Eppie?” He asked with a cough, trying very hard to give her the impression he had NOT just been thinking about anything sex related as he stood in front of 19 children. Had she been talking to him? Fuck, she’s going to be pissed.

“I think it’s time you start!” She said slowly, plastering on a fake smile.

Thank god for Éponine, she had gotten Marius to cover one of her lifeguarding shifts to help him with his first lesson. 

But also, fuck Éponine. He was going to blow this. Absolute carnage. 

“Yeah. Ok, starting time! Great…ok, hi kids! I’m Grantaire, but just call me R,” He glanced around at the kids. They were mostly 11-13 it looked like. Each had been given a pad of paper, and sketching pencils. “Great, so today we’re going to be starting a sort of project…thing, and it’s just going to be step one.” The kids all nodded along to what he was saying, each with toothy smiles and friendship bracelets encircling their tiny wrists, ah the simple times…

Soon he fell into a teaching rhythm. The project in question was going to be a multistep piece of artwork each kid would be creating. It started with a sketch, and then ink, and then colored pencils, and then paint, and so-on and so-forth. He had them each think of a memory that made them happiest, something his art teacher had done with him once. Some choices involved family, others involved pets, a lot involved video games. He himself had decided to paint Éponine and Gavroche, as those two were the closest things to family he had. And when someone had a question…

“How do I draw people?” He knew how to answer.

“How do I draw dogs?” He knew how to answer.

“How do I draw Shao Kahn from Mortal Kombat?” I mean, he didn’t quite know how to specifically answer, but he made do with his knowledge of drawing people.  
Soon, all the kids had quieted in artistic concentration, only the rare whisper asking to borrow an eraser could be heard. He too was working silently on sketching his two favorite people in the world, as he glanced at Éponine reading a book in a lawn chair she had set up, when he heard a timer signalling the end of their session. The hour flew by, it seemed to start and end sooner than he could blink.

“Ok guys, just save your drawings! Keep them safe, we’re going to continue this next time!” He had shouted as the kids turned to continue with their days. Éponine got up and started to help campers pack up their things, but not before she gave him a happy thumbs-up. 

“I guess I should congratulate you.” 

He jumped and whipped around, knocking over his pencils. Of course. Enjolras stood behind him looking surprised with the reaction he had gotten.

“Oh shit, sorry. I didn’t mean to startle you.” Apollo said as he quickly hit the ground to pick up the pencils. 

“Fuck, don’t do that. Really! I just was thinking deeply, I didn’t expect anyone behind me.” He said as he bent down beside him to help. 

“You? Thinking deeply? Couldn’t imagine that… ” 

“Well, well, well…who’s this comedian and what did you do with that stick-in-the-mud I met two days ago?” He said with a smirk as he looked up to see Enjolras gazing back at him with his brows slightly furrowed. Of course that gaze broke when their hands grazed over each other and Enjolras jerked back so hard he managed to fall over. 

Idiot, did you really think… 

“Ah sorry,” Apollo said distantly. “Anyway, I just wanted to say good job, I saw the tail end of your lesson and the kids seemed to really enjoy it.”

“Stalking me, I see?” He said as dusted off his knees to stand up, as Enjolras had just done. 

“No!” Came words with more of a bite than he expected. “No, I mean it’s my job. I’m the group leader, I have to check in with everyone.” 

“There’s no issue in admitting you’re in love with me. I get that all the time,” He joked, but was only meant with a glare. Yeah, the glare that could bring a man to his knees. God, Grantaire was a weak, weak man… 

“Jesus christ. I have to go.” 

“God, ok. No jokes about being gay. Understood. Done and done.” 

“No, it’s not that! Just…,” A sigh. “Good job today. Ok? Take the compliment. I have to go.” 

And with that, his lovely Apollo was gone. Walking away, after waving to Éponine, in black skinny jeans that fit much too well, with his hair in loose waves that cascaded down his back. How was he real?

“What was that about?” Asked Éponine as she walked up next to him, before pausing. “God Grantaire! Stop ogling his ass!” She barked as she began to laugh. 

“Fuck, I’m not!” He said as he, regretfully, peeled his eyes away. 

“Good job today, love. Those kids really enjoyed it.”

“Maybe this is what I should do, like for a living.” He joked, as they started to head back to the base. 

“Maybe.” 

“Well that was a joke. You know me…I really have no goals in life, dear. That’s my crowning achievement.”

“Think about it. You’re good at it.” 

And he did. He did think about it. That night he dreamt about the future. College, and teaching, and paintbrushes, and kids, and golden hair in loose waves.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> FYI, I am planning on adding some probably NSFW stuff here pretty soon, so just beware if that's not what you like! If that's what you were solely here for, it's coming! We have to develop their relationship first!! R for sure likes to be wined and dined first;)


	5. and we're gonna break the mold

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> vanilla peach milkshakes & golden rimmed eyes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> vanilla peach milkshakes, from experience, are actually the best thing to have in summer!!

The next few days went great for Enjolras. The camp was running smoothly, no kids had gotten hurt, his superiors kept congratulating him on his group of counselors, and he’d gotten to learn some more details about the cynic. 

Grantaire, he mentally told himself. 

R, he corrected further. 

Grantaire, R, had gotten upset when he had refused to call him that, and his friends had given him odd looks for it.

“Just call him R, Enjolras, for God's sake!” Courfeyrac had said as they walked back to their cabin. 

“You get it, don’t you? It’s a sillily smug nickname.” He had retorted. 

“You’re stubborn.” Courf had finished with, as he ran to catch up with Combeferre. 

“Well, you get it don’t you?!” 

Courf definitely hadn’t gotten it. 

Enjolras knew, of course, it was a play on words. No one else had understood that. “Grand R”. Whatever, he wasn’t going to fight him on all fronts. Although, arguing seemed to be something he highly enjoyed with R. Something he really enjoyed. There was an odd light that sparked in Grantaire’s eyes, as they discussed everything from politics to the best ice cream flavor. 

Enjolras liked that light. 

Speaking of which… 

“Enj! We’re going to town! Come on!”

Today was Saturday. Every Saturday, specialty counselors got to take off a couple of hours to spend some time doing fun things for themselves while the kids were looked after by office staff. It was a grace offered by Mr. Valjean when he took over the camp. The guy before…what was his name? Oh, Javert. He hadn’t been so understanding. 

Anyway, his friends were currently, rather loudly, piling into cars. Chetta was driving her yellow bug with Joly, Bahorel, and Feuilly fighting to get shotgun. Éponine was scowling as she unlocked her Toyota’s backseat for Marius and Cosette, who were both giggling shyly. And Courfeyrac was dragging Grantaire into Combeferre’s car, as he caught Enjolras’ eye and motioned him over. 

“You two get backseat!” Courf had smiled brightly and…dear God, winked at Enjolras as he said it. 

He sighed and sat down in the back of the car, chancing a glance at Grantaire who was staring at the scene Bahorel was making as he picked up Feuilly to remove him from the front seat of Chetta’s car. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” Grantaire had responded, grinning, as he turned to look at Enjolras. He’d been caught. 

“Fuck, no I was--” 

“I know Apollo, someone like you, under no circumstances is allowed to look at someone like me.” Grantaire said as he sarcastically army-saluted. 

There it was again. His self-deprecating humor that Enjolras despised. If someone had talked about Grantaire like that to him, he would have probably punched them, but what to do if it’s Grantaire himself… 

“You don’t think very highly of yourself, do you?” Enjolras had said as Ferre started the car.

“Ah, I’ve fooled him. The god himself is wrong. No, the world doesn’t think very highly of me. I, contrary to what you think, quite like myself. “ Grantaire’s usually confident smile betrayed him, as it faltered slightly and he turned his head quickly towards the window. 

That was a lie. 

“That's a lie.” 

“Maybe it is, maybe it isn't. I’m a trickster, I am. Don’t worry your pretty head about it.” He had said spitefully. 

“Ok, do you really think--”

“Woohoo! Music time!” Courfeyrac had interrupted loudly, as he gave a look towards Combeferre. 

They were silent for the rest of the ride, just listening to Courf’s summer playlist. He couldn’t say he was surprised, that was how their conversations usually went. Enjolras would talk, Grantaire would contradict, and somehow things ended up getting very personal very fast. 

The town they were headed to could hardly be called a town. It had a couple small, local stores, a diner, a post office and a bank. When they arrived, practically everyone was headed for the diner 

(They served the best milkshakes in America, according to him at least.) 

When Ferre had just gotten out of the car, Courf had grabbed his boyfriend's hand and dragged him into a skip to catch up with the others. That left just him and Grantaire to walk behind the pack. 

“Sorry, if I said something about your self-confidence, or something that made you uncomfortable…” Enjolras had mumbled out, breaking the silence. He wasn’t above apologizing…sometimes. 

“Definitely not your fault, I get defensive about it,” Grantaire answered, turning his head towards Enjolras. “Not your fault I don’t have any.” He said quieter. 

“Well I think you’re great,” Fuck, where had that come from? “Not that it would mean anything to you? I mean, you don’t need my approval or anything…that’s not what I’m saying. What I’m saying is, I guess I don’t know. I guess--” He petered out, mainly to catch his breath. 

Grantaire looked at him with a smirk, I guess he had just talked a mile a minute. 

“I’m sorry-” He started in a small squeak until a finger, Grantaire’s finger, appeared vertically to his parted lips. 

“Hush, Apollo,” Grantaire said in a low voice as they locked eyes. Those damned tiny flecks of gold were going to be the death of him. “No more of that.”  
“Yes.” He barely managed in a whisper, completely enamored by the effect this man, this cynic, had on him. His eyes with their gold rims, and his curly black hair (completely unkempt, yet somehow perfect), and his lips. His lips, which looked…soft, so very, very soft.

Fuck, he was a goner. 

After a few more seconds, which felt like a lifetime, Grantaire stepped away.

“Now, if I correctly remember you saying, this diner has the world's best vanilla peach milkshakes? Care to join me? We seem to be the only ones currently not in the establishment.” Grantaire said through a smile. 

He’d been asked a question. Fuck! 

Get your damn act together, Enjolras. He chided himself quite often when he lost his train of thought around Grantaire. 

“Yes,” he replied, clearing his throat. “Yeah, best ones around.” He said as he started walking alongside R, making a point to not look at him. 

“You’re paying.” 

“When did we decide that?”

“I decided. Right now. You’re rich.”

“My parents are rich.”

“Yes, and by those means, you yourself are also rich.” 

“Well, I don’t agree with that statement.”

“When the fuck DO you agree with a statement? Listen, I’ll pay. I’ll fucking pay your whole damn college tutition if you can, right now, say one thing you and I both agree on.”

He paused. “Good point. Fine, I’ll pay.”

And Grantaire laughed, and he decided he could listen to that laugh for as long as he lived. 

“Hurry up, I need to try these world famous milkshakes!” Yelled Grantaire as he tackled Bahorel while running into the diner. 

Enjolras watched his back as he went. 

Oh yeah, he was a goner.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update coming over the weekend, keep a look out! This isn't all sunshine and rainbows though, we may be getting to some light angst (of course with comfort;)) soon! 
> 
> Also! The attached link is to a great recipe for a copycat chick-fil-a peach milkshake (boo their views on lgbt+, but yay to copycat milkshakes so we don't have to give money to them!!)
> 
> https://delightfulemade.com/2015/08/03/copycat-chick-fil-a-peach-milkshake/


	6. the world moves fast

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “There’s a chance…a small chance, that--. That, he may think you’re…dating?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains underage drinking and underage smoking, if you are uncomfortable with that, please don't read any further!! 
> 
> Just FYI, nothing sexual occurs under the influence, and it's (hopefully) implied that everyone is a-okay with doing this. No one's peer pressured! Consent is so important! For everything from alcohol, to drugs, to sex. 
> 
> More information on the precautions they take will come in the next chapter (Enjolras' viewpoint!), but this is Grantaire's, so it's a liiiitle more fuzzy on some stuff like that. 
> 
> Chapter title from a song called People Need a Melody by The Head and the Heart (great band!)

The first thing he heard as he awoke was, well, it was the screeching alarm alerting him it was 6 A.M. Damnit, he’d forgotten to turn off his alarm. But, the second thing he heard when he pulled himself out of sleep, was the faint sounds of birds chirping and trees rustling. In theory, this was the recipe for the perfect day; the sun was out, it was hot without being too hot, and he was happier than he could remember in a long time. His time at this camp had included everything wonderful he could think of, while also installing a passion for teaching in him. Everything was great, save one small thing. 

The pounding headache and his inability to remember anything that happened last night. 

He certainly remembered the day. It had been lovely, filled with friends and milkshakes and Enjolras sitting far too close. But dammit, he could not remember the night. 

For god’s sake, he thought. Why did this always happen to him? 

When they had all returned to the camp after spending time in the town, they discovered that Valjean had gotten the go-ahead for the campers to spend the next day on a guided tour of a nearby historic town. While that had sounded lame as fuck to Grantaire, he knew enough to know what that meant: no specialty counselors were needed that Sunday. 

Valjean left them with the wise words of, “Be safe.”, followed by an intense stare. 

Everyone looked around at each other with big grins. Everyone except Grantaire.

“Let me explain to you baby bird,” Courf had gotten increasingly more interesting with his nicknames as time went on. “There’s always a day, a night actually, that we all have off. Usually that night is followed by a day we have free. The kids being gone tomorrow offers us the perfect time. We throw,” He looked very serious, dead into Grantaire’s eyes. “The. Most. Kick. Ass. Party.” 

“It’s not illegal if you’re not narcs!” Bahorel, the only one of official legal age, had proudly exclaimed when Combeferre had gingerly brought up the topic of the legality of it all. He whooped and sprinted toward Chetta’s car. Feuilly followed, gave an apologetic look towards Chetta, and caught the keys she threw to him. 

Apparently, this was something they did every year. And after Bahorel and Feuilly left, everyone seemed to quickly move to their assigned task. He followed Éponine, who was on food duty. 

He wasn’t going to lie, this surprised him. Sure, they were (almost all) fresh outta high school and headed into college, but these kids had struck him as the straight up and down type. Sans Chetta, she seemed lit from the get go. 

Then it dawned on him…Enjolras must have agreed to this. 

“Eppie, does Enjolras know you guys are doing this?” He asked as he stuffed bags of chips from the pantry into a small suitcase. 

“Oh yeah, he’s on ice collection. Even Enjolras can’t deny us this party!” She was busy grabbing handfuls of mini chocolate bars, but threw up a rock & roll hand sign with a grin. 

Enjolras. _Apollo _…is on ice collection?__

____

__

Hell yeah, this was going to be kick-ass. 

\------

There was a cabin, further away from the camp, that they had access to. This was, of course, due to the ‘no drinking on camp grounds’ rule, implemented by the man on ice duty. 

“The party cabin!” Courfeyrac yelled behind him, when Grantaire asked where they were going. Courf was carrying what looked to be a speaker of some sorts, as Combeferre was busing himself with putting together a playlist.

It was a relatively short walk, but you had to take a lot of turns to get there. Fuck, if he got too drunk tonight and decided to take a walk, he would be D.O.A. 

When he walked in, it just looked like a simple cabin, nice enough, if a bit old in decor. That was, until he saw the hot tub, foosball table, and 14 mini fridges in the basement. 

“Oh yeah, definitely a party cabin.” He whispered to Éponine as she set the suitcases down, containing the food they had smuggled out of the kitchen. 

After setting up the food in an agreeable arrangement, Grantaire made his way into the living room. The decor of the cabin looked like something out of a 1970s porn, he thought. Bahorel was in the living room, on the horribly red shag rug, mixing a slurry of drinks together, which Grantaire began watching with interest. 

“B’s Death Defying Concoction, that’s what I call it. This shit man--whoop! It’ll knock you out!” Yelled Bahorel, addressing the man watching him. 

“I’ve tried just about everything, and I have never seen that much liqueur mixed with that much flavoring.” He responded, frankly impressed. 

“You’re in for it tonight, my little angel starfish.” Courfeyrac said brightly, before reaching an arm arounds Grantaire’s shoulders. 

“Courf, wha-? These nicknames?” Combeferre remarked, confused. He cocked an eyebrow in his boyfriend’s direction. Courf merely smiled back and hopped towards the door to help Chetta drag in two large coolers. 

“Grantaire!” He heard, definitely Éponine calling him, from the kitchen. Fondly, he made his way back to the kitchen, admiring the way the people around him, his friends, worked in such unison to set up. 

“Ah, iceman!” He exclaimed, stepping into the kitchen to see Enjolras kneeling in the middle of the tile floor, surrounded by three large bags of unbroken ice. 

“Help him break it up.” Éponine directed, pointing at Enjolras, who was staring up at him, his mouth resembling a fish out of water. Grantaire gave a confused look towards Enjolras, questioning why he was staring. With the confusion evident on Grantaire’s face, Enjolras looked away, his marble skin gaining a slightly pink blush. 

Ignore it, don’t get your hopes up, his brain repeated. 

“Alright Apollo, let’s go outside.” Grantaire uncomfortably laughed off, grabbing two of the bags of ice and starting out towards the door. Enjolras didn’t say anything, just simply made to follow Grantaire towards the porch. 

They broke the ice in a weighted silence. Grantaire couldn’t quite put his finger on why Enjolras was acting differently. He thought, first, about how he looked today, because after they had visited the town he had decided to rinse off and let his curls air dry, meaning they were more wild than Apollo had seen before. The thought crossed his mind that maybe Enjolras had finally realized Grantaire was too pathetic, _(Éponine would have been pissed he was talking down to himself, but he didn’t care.) _, to have the honor of talking to him, but then again, he wasn’t acting angry. Just weird, and different? Maybe he regretted spending the whole day with Grantaire? That thought made his heart uncomfortably clench.__

____

__

Regardless, they managed to break all the ice and deposit it back in the bags. Enjolras muttered out a tiny, “Thanks”, before he snatched all three bags and hurried back inside. 

He was left outside, alone. He sighed. 

After that, everything blurs together, for Grantaire at least. 

He remembers going back inside to upbeat, happy music playing in the background, and Courf passing out cups. He remembers taking one, and gazing down at the angry blue mixture. He remembers meeting Enjolras’ eyes from across the room, and Enjolras quickly turning his back towards Grantaire. He remembers narrowing his eyes at that long, perfect, blonde hair falling down Enjolras’ back and downing his drink. He remembers people cheering and downing another, and another, and another…

He recollects standing on a table, and Bahorel and him wrestling, and Chetta heading outside to smoke a joint with him in tow. There may have been a dance-off that he might have taken part in? He vaguely remembers a bottle being brought out, and sitting in a circle. Images flash of the group laughing and hollering. Lips met lips. His lips had met someone’s. 

Then it gets fuzzier. Someone was mad at him, weren’t they? Someone had their fist balled in the front of his shirt, and they were crying. 

If he hadn’t been so out of it, he might have thought he remembers seeing strikingly blue eyes staring up at him, with angry tears in them. 

But he had been out of it. 

So he pushed those thoughts away, of blue eyes gazing up at him and marble hands fisted into his shirt. He pushed away the thoughts of Enjolras. He had been mad at the beginning of last night, and there’s no way he would have wanted anything to do with a drunk Grantaire. 

“Fuck,” he muttered, bringing his hands up to his head. The headache was back with a vengeance. But he still got up and, regrettably, got dressed. 

Outside, the camp was perfectly still, that being due to the campers having left earlier in the day. Walking around the serene camp was very enjoyable, and he thought, for a while, he was the only one up, until he saw Courf sitting on the dock with his feet dangling into the water. Courf mirrored his appearance; disheveled hair and sunglasses perched on his nose. 

As he sat down by him, the smaller man merely gave him a small nod to acknowledge his presence. 

“I told you, little munchkin,” Courf said after a couple minutes of silence. “You were in for it.” His voice sounded scratchy, like he needed more sleep. 

“You were right about that.” He responded, swirling his toes in the cool water before venturing, “Hey, do you remember if anyone was upset with me last night? Like if someone was crying into my shirt?”

Courf didn’t say anything, he just turned his head and gazed at Grantaire. 

“R, do you not remember?” He asked, slowly. 

“Remember what?” Grantaire tried to laugh off, not enjoying the tone Courfeyrac had taken. 

A flash of something he couldn’t quite read flashed over Courf’s face. Then he shook his head. “You need to talk to Enj.” 

“Enjolras? Why?” 

In the silence, for the briefest of moments, he worried that maybe he had confessed his feelings. Maybe he’d given himself away. Maybe he’d let everyone know how he was actually astounded by Enjolras’ passion, and drive, and beauty. But when the silence continued, worry started building in his chest that maybe he had…unintentionally…hurt Enjolras?  


“There’s a chance…a small chance, that--. That, he may think you’re… dating?” Courf stated with a small smile combined with a grimace. 

Well. 

He hadn’t expected that.

“He might… _WHAT?” ___

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There we go! 
> 
> Hopefully no one's too uncomfortable reading about these kiddos having some fun like this. If you are, and you want to talk about it, I am more than willing to talk to you! Please, send me a message, or a comment, or something else of your choosing. I'm always avaliable! 
> 
> Again, the next chapter is going to be the party from Enjolras' view. Him and Joly take precautions to make sure everyone is super safe, but Grantaire doesn't know about that. (That's why all that good stuff wasn't in this chapter!!)


	7. it was never too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> what happened at the party is revealed and coconut flavored lips are tasted.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry this took me so long to get out! It's a longer chapter (hopefully that makes up for it:))
> 
> enjoy!

He had been put on ice duty, like he always was. 

“The iceman!” Bahorel yelled at him. Ah yes, the nickname he gained returning for another year. 

There was a large ice box, with more bags of ice then the camp could handle, that he usually raided when the group was in need. For times, specifically, like this. The only damn problem was that he couldn't break it up by himself… 

Of course, when they first pitched him an invitation, Enjolras was not at all pleased. His plan had always been to be a Group Leader, therefore he had decided to be as straight as an arrow until he got there. There couldn’t have been any distractions or anything damaging his record until he received that promotion. Yeah, he was 17 at the time…no one’s saying he wasn’t always motivated. He had said, no exclaimed, that to his friends, all of whom were (apparently) expecting that reaction, and told them he had no interest in participating in their party. All with quiet frustration, he remembered, they stalked away. Courf had given his head a shake, and groaned about his superiority complex for hours after. 

He had thought that was the end of it, but a gnawing worry started up in his gut when he realized they would do it with or without his blessing. With absolute disdain, he decided he had to make sure they were safe before he let them do anything idiotic. Along with Joly, another worrier in the group, they took the best safety preparations they could. 

Enjolras had gathered first aid kits (with plenty of Aspirin), stocked up on water, double checked the cabin for regulation safety standards, set a drink limit that his friends promised to obey, and printed out a poster for signs of alcohol poisoning. Joly on the other hand designated himself the one to remain sober, made sure Jehan (who was the groups’ baby and was decidedly not allowed to drink) knew where they were and how to contact him if he was worried, grabbed high-protein food, and made sure activities were in place to take focus off the alcohol. 

After the final step of taping the alcohol poisoning poster, rather sloppily, onto the side of the cabin wall, he had found himself at the cabin at 8:00. Great. When the party was supposed to start. As if almost reading his mind, Courf burst through the door in a fit of excited giggles. 

“Oh Enj! I knew you wouldn’t leave us! We’re going to have so much fun!” Courfeyrac jumped up and down, like a kangaroo. Like a tiny, excited, kangaroo. 

How can you disappoint a tiny, excited, kangaroo?

Enjolras didn’t know. 

“Here I am.”

And there he was. He drank a little, danced a little, watched Bahorel and Feuilly profess their undying love for each other, and (after getting a single ice cube for Ferre) was dubbed the “iceman”. All in all, it was fun. The headache after, was not. 

And here he was 2 years later. The iceman once again. Taking the same safety steps with Joly since the first party. 

This time, though, there was something on his mind other than just safety… 

*

After making his way, barely, to the kitchen with the three bags of ice chunks, he plopped down in the middle of the floor. 

“You need help breaking that up.” He jumped. 

“Fuck!” And then he looked, “Éponine! God, hi. I didn’t see you there. Yeah, I do, I guess.” She was arranging cheese slices on a small, silver plate wearing a smirk. 

“Grantaire!” She barked, then quietly added, “He’s strong.” The wink she added at the end was noticeable, even under the scowl he threw at her. 

R entered looking…unbelievable. Even after spending the whole day with those bright eyes and huge smile and bouncy curls, he still couldn’t get over how Grantaire looked. And now he was wearing a tighter shirt with the top button open and... shit…he turned away, most likely blushing. 

“Alright Apollo, let’s go outside.” He heard Grantaire laugh as he felt two of the bags get scooped out of his reach. 

They, he says they…it was really R, broke the ice in an uncomfortable silence. R, who usually couldn’t stop talking, apparently couldn’t manage two words with him now. It made sense, Enjolras was standoffish, and cold, and not worthy of the brightness that Grantaire was. That didn’t mean it didn’t hurt a little…a lot. 

“Thanks.” He muttered in Grantaire’s direction before quickly snatching up the bags of ice. He could not deal with this right now. R, Grantaire, was a distraction. A distraction who didn’t even like him, a distraction he didn’t need before college. College, which he was going to in a couple of months. Yeah, no. He didn’t have time for this. 

He hurried back inside, dumped the ice in the bucket, and made his way out to the living room. Everyone was already in there, oblivious to his current emotional turmoil. 

When Courf handed him a cup of Bahorel’s drink, he met R’s, damnit, Grantaire’s eyes. 

He didn’t have time for this, and out of the corner of his eye he saw Grantaire down his drink. So he downed his. 

*

2 hours later, he’d had a couple more drinks. Definitely not as many as Courf, and less than Joly (which was 0). He was at the stage where a warm, fuzzy feeling started to envelop his entire body, and he just couldn’t stop looking…at him. 

R had wrestled with Bahorel, which Enjolras did his best to ignore, especially the way R’s shirt rode up, showing the tiniest bit of a tattoo. How did he not know R had a tattoo across his belly? He took a shot.

After, R had gone outside to smoke a bit with Chetta. Enjolras did not envy her for that, well…he did envy the way her lips touched the joint after his did, but Enjolras didn’t smoke. But maybe he could start? No, fuck. No. Enjolras, do not think about that, he chided to himself. He took a shot. 

Then, R and Éponine had started a fucking dance-off with Feuilly and Bahorel. He definitely didn’t care about the harsh way she grabbed his hips, grinding them into her. Of course, everyone else just whooped and hollered, but that action made him clench his fists angrily into his side. Maybe, if he played his cards right, that could be him sliding his hand up R’s neck, pulling his hair, and biting his earlobe and God--was Éponine trying to kill him?! 

Fuck, no. He wasn’t too drunk for self control. He went to see what Ferre was doing. Which was, yes ok…passionately making out with Courf. 

“Ah, my Enjy! I tell you wha-what…” Courf slurred, popping his lips obscenely off Combeferre. Ferre, for his part, at least had the decency to look flushed. His hair was a mess, and glasses crooked. “Here’s what we’re gonna do! Grab a bottle, and ya know wha-what? We’re going to play a leeetlleee game!” 

Against his better judgement, he obeyed. It was the alcohol, he told himself, totally the alcohol. 

“We’re playing spin the bottle--”

“No pressure if you don’t want to as well!” Combeferre added to Couf’s slurred sentence. 

“Yeah, yeah, that too. Now get in a circle you del-delinquents!” 

The only person that didn’t clamber down to play was Joly. Ever since that first party, he had found he rather enjoyed being the one to take care of his plastered friends, so that was that. He exclaimed, “I’m not drunk enough for that!” and plopped himself onto an armchair, making sure to keep one eye on, the every rowdier, Courf. 

Everyone sat in the circle, patiently awaiting Courf to get the bottle perfectly centered. Marius looked giddy, a little from the alcohol and a lot from the realization he might get to kiss Cosette during this game. Éponine sat next to him, glaring at her hands, looking more sullen than Enjolras had ever seen her. Bahorel, seated next to Ep, had a lapful of Feuilly, who was explaining (rather loudly) that just because he kissed someone else, it didn’t mean he didn’t love him. And then Grantaire was there, laughing openly about the show Feuilly was putting on. 

Some way or another, this was going to go bad, Enjolras could feel it. 

Ferre started the game, landed on Cosette and gave her a good-natured kiss on the cheek, which she received with a giggle. Marius, who looked like a kicked puppy when Ferre had leaned close to her, perked back up when she shot him a smile from across the circle.   
Then it was Marius, who got Courf…not entirely who he was hoping for. Nevertheless, Courf took his face in his hands and planted a sloppy kiss on the tip of his nose. Marius pulled away, blushing, and cast his eyes in Cosette’s direction, who applauded him excitedly. 

Honestly…all this affection was going to make him sick. 

Éponine got Feuilly, Feuilly got Ferre, and Bahorel got Chetta all who opted to go for chaste cheek kisses. 

Of course, then it was the moment Enjolras had been dreading. He had reached his drink maximum and, of course sticking to his word, hadn’t gotten anything to drink in a good hour. But now, feeling how awkwardly sober he had become, almost regretted it. 

R reached forward to spin the bottle, his huge smile meeting the cheers of the rest of the circle. The bottle spun for, what felt like, forever, until finally coming to rest smack-dab between him and Courf. 

A hush fell over the room, as Courf turned to waggle his eyebrows at Enjolras. For his part, all he could do was stare at the bottle. He couldn’t meet R’s eyes…was it really possible he would get to kiss him? 

“Uh, what do I do?” R asked, sounding much more nervous than Enjolras would’ve expected. 

“You have to choooose!” Courf exclaimed quickly, shooting a grin at Enjolras, who was still staring at the bottle. 

Oh god Courf, knowing him and his aptitude for drama, of course he’s making R choose and--

“Alright then, Courf.” 

At that, Enjolras snapped his head up. R wasn’t meeting his eyes, instead he was staring intently at Courf. 

“Wha-? R, but--?” Courf muttered, gaping like a fish out of water. 

“That’s what I said, isn’t it.” R finished shortly, before crawling over to Courf, settling himself in front of him. And then R leaned in, and kissed him. But like, really kissed him. Lip on lip, and then it deepened and it was tongue on tongue. And R grabbed the side of Courf’s face and Courf settled his hand in R’s curls, and--he couldn’t take this. He needed air. 

Enjolras jumped up, startling Ferre who had been watching his boyfriend getting frenched with a surprisingly calm expression. 

“Enj, where are you going?” Ferre shouted after him. 

“I just need--the door, I mean-uh, porch…I need air.” He finally settled on, turning around to see the circle staring at him. R was gazing up at him, hand still settled on Courf’s face, and Enjolras felt the familiar feeling of a stinging settling in his eyes. “Don’t bother me, please.” He added hastily, before exiting the cabin and settling himself on a step of the porch. 

How could he be so stupid? This wasn’t like him either, in the past, he never would have let himself get so worked up over a boy. Especially a boy he had no shot with, who probably despised him due to his demeanor. And this was idiotic, because it was just a kiss. A kiss with Courf even, who loved Ferre more than anything. And it was a game, him and his friends were playing a game, and now he’s gone and fucked everything up by being emotional. 

That’s when the tears started to really fall. That’s also precisely the time someone walked out and sat next to him. It was probably Ferre, directed to go help his ridiculous friend with his ridiculous emotions. 

“Oh Ferre--” He was cut off by another sob wracking his throat before he could continue. 

“ ‘M not Ferre, sorry. I can go get him if you want? But do you want to…I don’t know, talk?” 

A voice. A voice matching the body of none other than R. Perfect. Just what he needed now. 

He hopped up, glaring down at Grantaire. He couldn’t just come out here to comfort him. That wasn’t what he was supposed to do. He was supposed to be uncaring and cruel, so Enjolras could hate him. 

“Listen, maybe you don’t want to, and I get that. I just wanted you to know, it’s not that I didn’t want to, uh, kiss you?” Oh God, he phrased it like a question. Like he was trying to gauge what Enjolras was upset about. This was mortifying, but he’s already here, so might as well go with it. 

R was standing up now, meeting Enjolras’ eyes. Without thinking, Enjolras surged forward, gripping his shirt and balling it in his fists. 

“Am I that off putting? Do you not like me that much? You would rather kiss Courf, who’s in a relationship, than me? You could have just got me on the cheek, like a friend, just a friend--” Another sob cut him off. In the morning, he was going to hate himself for this. Now he was complaining about not being kissed, like an absolute child. Mortifying. 

“Enj, oh fuck, no. Fuck, I guess I’ll just say it. I think you’re perfect, no I mean you ARE perfect, you’re so perfect. You have the most brilliant mind, and I could listen to you destroy me in conversation all day,” He laughed. A manic sort of laugh. “I don’t even care that you’re an idealist, I don’t believe in what you believe, but dammit I believe in you.” He paused. “Enj, I have wanted to kiss you since I first saw you.” Another pause. “Enj, I couldn’t have our first kiss be in a fucking spin the bottle game. I would never forgive myself if that’s how I started our relationship.” He whispered the last part, like it was a sort of secret. Or maybe he couldn’t control his volume, it was pretty obvious R was very plastered. Whatever it was, it fucking worked. 

Enjolras reached his hand up, cupping the side of R’s face, finally feeling that golden skin he’d been imagining all evening. Finally examining the face he’d been pining over. R had a slight amount of stubble that would, God, that would feel so good rubbing the insides of his thighs. His left ear was pierced, holding a tiny diamond stud he hadn’t noticed before. Freckles dusted his nose and cheeks, and a tiny, tiny mole sat itself under the right side of his bottom lip. 

“Oh, Enj--” He cut R off. His lips smashed themselves on R’s, tasting the coconut lip balm he’d been using all evening to fight off dryness. God bless him, the brunette moaned when Enjolras deepened the kiss, a flurry of pride shot through him when his tongue won in the short battle of dominance they held. R relaxed in this grip, Enjolras now moving his hands to rest in the small of R’s back. 

It was perfect, very perfect. 

Leave it to Courf. 

The next few moments happened in a flash. First, Courf burst through the door yelling about something quite loudly, causing Grantaire to pull away from him. Bahorel, with Feuilly hanging off him, then scooped R up, and carried him toward camp, explaining something about needing to get him water and a bed. The rest of the group exited the house, each holding someone’s hand, forming a chain. Ferre was the last person to leave, finally telling Enjolras about what was going on. 

Apparently Joly had discovered some mold on one of the window coverings, and decided that it was not safe for them to stay the night until they could be sure it was not a dangerous mold. He directed that everyone still inebriated take hold of someone else's hand and he would make sure everyone got to their cabin and into bed safe. 

From when Ferre took his hand and started to lead them back to the camp, Enjolras could no longer see the writhing body of Grantaire trying to escape Bahorel’s clutches. Ferre had looked sorry when he apologized for the group interrupting whatever R and him were doing. But in all honesty, Enjolras wasn’t listening to him. 

“I would never forgive myself if that’s how I started our relationship.”

That’s what Grantaire had said. So, did that mean…did that mean they had a relationship? 

It must. It totally must. 

“Ferre, I think R and I are dating now.” He said, cutting off Ferre’s long winded speech on moths of the forest. 

“Uh, you think? Enj, how do you not know?” 

“I think we’re dating.” He repeated, ignoring the question. 

“I think everything will make more sense in the morning, Enj.” The response came quietly. 

Enjolras smiled, he didn’t care what Ferre thought. Clearly Grantaire would agree with him, clearly R would agree they’re in a relationship. 

Look at that, his first kiss and his first boyfriend on the same night.

He would never have expected that. 

He also would have never expected his, self-proclaimed, boyfriend wouldn’t remember anything about the night they first kissed. But for now he didn’t know that. 

For now, he was still basking in the thought of coconut flavored lips on his own. And that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter, definitely in the next 2 weeks!! What I might start doing, as I'm working on another work at this time, is alternate weeks for posting? I'll have to see. 
> 
> I'm a full IB student, which is hell, and we're working on IA's right now without constant guidance from teachers (quarantine!). That's what's been keeping me so busy!!! I'm sure a lot of you don't know what the hell I'm talking about, and that's totally fine and also probably for the best. But if some of you are working on IA's right now, I'm sending good vibes your way!! :)


	8. we're like fireworks and symphonies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> they both messed up.
> 
> but Enjolras might have messed up significantly worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i love making promises of when I'll release chapters and then NEVER actually keeping those. 
> 
> i'm sorry:( here's a slightly angsty e/r chapter for you.

“So you mean to tell me that Apollo, Enjolras, whatever you want to call him, believes himself to be my boyfriend? Courf let me remind you, I’m Grantaire, R, literally everything that Enjolras is NOT--” His arms waved manically around his head, almost knocking him off the dock in their fervor. 

“Grantaire, calm down for a minute please,” Courfeyrac had hopped to his feet at this point. His arms outstretched, creating a barrier. “R, talk to me. Tell me what you remember from last night.” He paused. “Ferre said this might happen.” Courf muttered to himself, but it didn’t miss Grantaire’s ears. 

“Uh, shit ok. Everything’s fuzzy. I don’t know…everyone was partying, I think I wrestled? Or danced or some shit? And then, fuck, we were all sitting and I kissed someone, oh yeah! I kissed…” Well, this was decidedly more awkward than he had intended it to be. Had he kissed, well…Courf? “You? Uh, did I kiss you?” 

The smaller man rubbed the back of his neck, a tension release. “Well, yeah. We did. But it was for a game! Ferre told me about it this morning…apparently the bottle landed between me and Enjolras, and I told you to pick, and you picked me?” He said the last part like it was a question, even though R was sure it was fact. 

“Oh God. I’m a fucking idiot, aren’t I? That was because, well, I don’t know! I was drunk, and he’s…uh, just perfect. Fuck.” It was pretty blatantly obvious, even to his hungover self, that he had fucked up. “Courf, I like Enjolras.” The words came out stunted and awkward. Perfect way to describe words, perfect way to describe himself. How ironic. “Like I, like like Enjolras.” 

He was fucking this up. 

“But wait, Courf…how does that correlate to Enjolras thinking I’m his, you know, boyfriend?” He paused and laughed. A cold, deprecating laugh. “Jesus, how is this conversation actually happening? I would have cut off my leg a couple months ago to have someone like Enjolras think I’m his boyfriend.”

“Well, ok. Apparently Ferre got this out of Enjolras last night. After the whole thing with me,” Courf flared his arms wildly in his own direction. “Enj and you went outside, and talked, and you like said, or more like confessed, your feelings.” He grimaced, though not even remotely matching the look of horror that was passing R’s face. 

“Alright.” R said reverting his face to a normal expression, feeling oddly calm. “Alright, I’m leaving. I’ll be gone before he wakes up.” His feet started carrying him. “It’s been really great getting to know you, sorry you had to kiss me. Say I’m sorry to Ferre too! Tell Ep I’ve gone home! And by home I mean the Hotel 66 on Highway 102. She’ll know where that is. Wish Chetta the best on her future weed store from me, she told me about it last night. Tell Bahorel he needs to learn to tuck his thumb if he wants to be any good. He’ll understand.” He was yelling over his shoulder, walking progressively faster towards the parking lot. He would call a bus. It would be fine. “If you see Enjolras, explain to him that I apologize. And I didn’t mean to offend his honor, or some shit, I don’t know. Tell him that I didn’t mean to and--”

“Well, I have it on good authority that he hopes you’re not telling the truth right now.” A cool, smooth voice entered his vicinity. God damn Enjolras and his ability to still sound suave, even when, most likely, hungover. 

This man was capable of being terrible…terrible for R, that is. 

He swiveled on his heel, shooting a terribly awkward smile at the golden, messy bun. He wasn’t looking in his eyes, he wasn’t meeting his gaze, he could be strong…“Oh,” He chuckled, sounding fucking psychotic, even to his own ears. “Hey Enjolras. Maybe you heard, I’m leaving! Yeah, just thought it’d be a good time. Ok, it was nice meeting you!” 

His brisk walk started up towards the parking lot again. And, wow, good for him. He managed to give his whole cringey speech to the messy bun. No ocean blue eyes for him, no sir!

“R, stop.” His arm was suddenly caught, with surprising force, causing him to stop dead in his tracks. “Goodness, I didn’t know you would try to run away from me this soon,” Enjolras laughed lightly, his fingers settling on Grantaire’s cheek, and turning it to face--. Well, there were the ocean blue eyes he’d been avoiding. “What a horrible boyfriend I’d be if I let you just leave.” 

And wow, Enjolras’ lips were all of a sudden on his. This is not a drill folks. I repeat, not a drill. But this also wasn’t reality. He must be in a fever dream. Or dead. 

He’d prefer death at this moment. 

He wrenched away from Enjolras, realizing he hadn’t bothered to kiss him back. 

“Enjolras, no. I’m, um. I’m not your, ok wait, what’s even going on?” He laughed sourly. “Am I seriously in a dream or some shit? Or in a coma? If this is a joke, like if someone put you up to this, just tell me now. I swear to the actual Lord I won’t be upset.” 

Enjolras simply stared at him, his smile fading into a small, confused frown. “We’re in a relationship. You said so last night. We kissed and you said this was how our relationship was starting. You remember.” He said it so matter of factly, like R had no other choice but to actually remember. “You remember. Come on R, you must remember--”

“Fuck Enjolras. No, I don’t remember! How the ever living fuck do you remember? We were both plastered last night.” 

“I remember everything.” 

“Well no fucking shit.” 

Enjolras twisted his gaze away from Grantaire, looking like he was going to march back to the camp, before violently turning back towards him. An accusatory finger outstretched and pointing. “Listen, if I’ve got something wrong here. Will you just tell me? If I mistook something about us, just--”

“There’s no US, Enjolras! Are you kidding, me and you? In what universe?” Grantaire scoffed. In what universe would he ever be remotely good enough for Enjolras?

Unfortunately, as obvious as it seemed to Grantaire, his self-deprecation didn’t quite reveal itself to Enjolras. To Enjolras, this whole thing seemed rather rude and uncalled for.

“Well, excuse me. You seemed pretty fucking into me last night. What happened to you “believing in me”? Was that all a lie?” 

“Jesus, you do remember everything. Listen,” He pinched the bridge of his nose. This could not be happening. “Enj, I was drunk--” 

“Do not call me that.” The blond snarled. 

“Fine, fuck you. ENJOLRAS, I was drunk. I don’t remember saying any of that. If you felt bad for me, no worries. We’re all good, I’m no longer off the wall.” 

“Oh fuck you,” And Enjolras’ voice broke. Really broke. “I didn’t feel bad for you. Fuck you, I liked you. And I thought you liked me too. And I thought those things you said were true. And I thought, who I thought was my first boyfriend, wouldn’t absolutely hate me.” Enjolras spit at him, his blue eyes filling with pools of water. How fitting, his ocean eyes now really look like the ocean. 

“Enjolras, it has nothing to do with you. It’s me, have you seen me? Have you heard me?” 

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I seemed to have forgotten something! I forgot how fucking perfect you are. How much I don’t deserve you.” Enjolras’ voice was dripping with holy sarcasm. 

“It’s one thing to get mad at me for forgetting, it’s another to insult me. My deepest fucking hatred about myself, god damnit I know I don’t deserve you--”

“That wasn’t even an insult, you want to hear an insult? You’re hopeless. I’ve gotten to know you in the past weeks, and you know what? I’ve found you’re fucking despicable. You have potential, you’re good with kids! And you squander that. You’re loud, and crass, and full of yourself, and indescribably unmotivated. You believe in nothing--”

“Enough.” 

“--Can you possibly be fit for anything? Can you possibly be capable of anything? I’m guessing not--”

“E-fucking-nough, Enjolras. You’ve made your point.” His voice didn’t match the hatred of Enjolras’, like he would have probably expected or hoped. The tone he used was dangerous and low. It made the blond stop, the flush on his cheeks still present from his outburst. 

As soon as the fire in his eyes faded, and Enjolras took stock of where he was, Grantaire could see it. He could physically see the turning point when he realized what he had said. With his mouth slightly agape, the pale, slender hand came to rest over his pink lips. Shock painted his marble features. 

“You won’t have to talk to me for the remainder of the camp. You won’t even have to see me. I’ll stay out of your way.” 

“No, oh my God. R, please. I am so sorry. I didn’t mean any of that. I don’t even know why I said it. I, I-” 

“I’ve left the God himself speechless. Never thought I’d do that.” Grantaire slowly chuckled. 

Confusion was screwed up on Enjolras’, Apollo’s, features. On a lesser man, Grantaire assumed that look would come across as unattractive. But this was Enjolras, for crying out loud. The man who just made his true feelings known. 

A part of him was grateful that he did this now. He would have hated to get his hopes up, and be let down. Thankfully his hopes were only spiked for a short time. A very, very short time. 

“R, please. I can’t believe myself--”

“You said what you thought. I’m an advocate for free speech. I don’t blame you--”

“That’s not what I think! Please believe me, that’s not what I really think. R, I was embarrassed and upset. I like you. I really like you.”

“Let’s not kid ourselves Enjolras. You really don’t.” He opened his mouth to say something, but R cut him off. “Lots of people don’t. My family included. I should mind, but honestly, it doesn’t bother me anymore. Regardless of what you think, I really am not full of myself.” Enjolras again opened his mouth to talk. “No,” Grantaire cut in sharply. “Let me finish. I actually hate myself a lot. I began to not hate myself so much when I was with you, but hey, it’s my fault. Scum like me shouldn’t pretend.” 

Enjolras let out a sniffle, silent tears tracking down his cheeks. He did look truly hurt. 

He has good acting skills, Grantaire should compliment him. 

“R, please…” 

“You’ve shown me, I was living in a dream. A pleasant dream, I’ll grant you, but when it comes to an end, all you want to do is erase it from your mind. So, I should be thanking you, I suppose.”

“Don’t do that, please--”

“I enjoyed it while it lasted at least. Don’t worry,” He waved a hand dismissively and threw on a fiercely fake smile. “I’ll be gone in a couple weeks, and you’ll never have to suffer through my presence again.”

“Dammit R, I don’t want that!” Enjolras screamed again, forgoing the quiet, suffering, persona he had put on a second ago. 

“Enjolras, stop this.” 

This voice didn’t come from Enjolras, and it didn’t come from Grantaire. 

Combeferre. 

“The children will be coming back soon, please. We don’t want a scene. Grantaire expressed he wants you to give him space for now.” 

“Forever.” R corrected. Combeferre tossing a look towards him that he couldn’t quite place, as he placed a reassuring hand on Enjolras’ shaking arm. He stared at that hand and that arm for far longer than he cared to admit. “Well, I think that’s my cue to go. Thank you Ferre.” His vicious false smile was back with a vengeance as he walked back towards camp. Fuck leaving, he wouldn’t give Enjolras the satisfaction of seeing him go. “I’ll see you around, Ferre.” He specified, coldly. “Oh and Enjolras,” He called over his shoulder before turning to meet his wet eyes, flashing with a smidge of hope Grantaire couldn’t miss. “Never, ever, say you know me again. You know nothing about me.” 

With that. He strided away. Where? He didn’t know. 

Maybe Ep. Maybe he could talk to Ep. Or Courf. 

No, no. That wouldn’t work. Courfeyrac would be with Enjolras. 

Well, so would everyone else, he guessed. They knew him longer. They probably liked him more. 

Even Ep. 

Having friends was fun while it lasted. For a second they saw past his horrid personality, and allowed him the grace of enjoying life. For a second. 

He was back to it. Back to life on his own. Everyone against him. 

It was bound to happen at some point. He just really didn’t think it would be so soon. 

It took him a second to realize he was running. Tears streaming down his face. Eponine running after him, yelling his name. 

Then a sharp prick met his forearm. A harsh, blaring pain. 

He stopped running, to look at what was causing this, not entirely unwelcome, pain. Eponine still in hot pursuit. 

A bee. A little bee. A bee that flew away as soon as he glanced down. 

Fuck. 

Just his luck.

He was allergic to bees. 

Deathly allergic to bees. 

Just his fucking luck, right? 

“R!” He heard Eponine scream. It was a terrified, high-pitched scream, just before everything went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm back, back, back again.
> 
> expect the next chapter sooner than this one was released. again, sorry about that!! the IB Diploma is, personally, killing me right now:) 
> 
> but I thoroughly enjoy writing this, so please enjoy!!! kudo and comment if you would like!! 
> 
> hope you're all doing good!!


	9. *UPDATE*

*UPDATE*

Hello!! Not probably what you were expecting, and for that I’m sorry. 

I just wanted to write a quick little thingy explaining to all of you why I won’t necessarily be updating for a couple of weeks. This is because I value all of you that read my work—even if it’s just a couple people;)—and I want to give you a heads up.

As a white member of the LGBTQIA+ community, I have lived a privileged life. I myself have been lucky enough to live in a time after the Stonewall Riots, who’s brave queer activists (many of who were black and brown) gave us our modern rights. I recognize that not all people of my situation have had it easy, and many LGBTQIA+ kids—unfortunately—can not live their truths out of fear, but I do acknowledge that ALL white people benefit from white privilege and the institutionalized racism that plagues our country. 

Because of this, I feel the need to put my efforts towards fighting alongside black and all POC people for what’s right. 

My state is particularly active when it comes to protesting, and in the past week, I’ve been able to attend many peaceful, and (not entirely peaceful) marches. Don’t worry, at all the rallies people are passing out flyers that state our rights as protestors and what to do if you get arrested! 

Last night, we had a particularly peaceful rally and our curfew was lifted. Yay! 

All of this to say, I won’t be sitting down and writing in long busts until I have the time. It will probably be a couple (2-3) weeks before you can expect an update. I don’t mean to say that in a couple of weeks the fight for equality will be over—not at all—but as I chip away at writing for short amounts of time, that is when I could see a chapter being finished. 

This is an extremely important time in our history. We cannot waste this moment. 

Remember, Pride started as a riot! 

Also, happy Pride Month everyone! A bit of good news, I came out to three of my closest friends and they’re super cool! (Pansexual, baby!) I haven’t come out to my parents quitteee yet, but they 100% know. Once you buy the Neutrogena Pride Edition face wipes, I’m pretty sure it becomes damn clear. 

Anyway, my Tumblr blog is downton-shabby (SO original, I know), if you have any feelings about anything or anything you’d like to tell me, I am so down to listen. Use the ask feature or whatever, it’s all good! I’m WAY more active about this movement on my personal Instagram, and if you would like to connect on there, please let me know through my Tumblr. 

This is what our babies in Les Amis de L’ABC would’ve wanted. You can make a difference! If you’re white, like me, let’s use our platforms and privilege to help! Let’s all make Enjolras proud. 

Safe protesting everyone, 

And if you can't physically protest, please spread information, sign petitions, donate, and learn. https://www.refinery29.com/en-us/2020/06/9851225/black-lives-matter-how-to-help-donate-support >> that's an article with lots of useful information.

~A

**Author's Note:**

> Oh goodness! I hope if someone's reading this, you enjoyed it!! This was my first attempt at anything on AO3, so please be kind!! Updates coming probably every couple of days? That is, if people don't absolutely rip it apart:,) I'm quarantined, so don't really have anything to do except write!


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